Blood of the Enemy
by belovedsoul
Summary: DMHG. Draco becomes a vampire. Bound by destiny, a Mudblood and a Pureblood find themselves drawn into the abyss of a dark, bittersweet and desperately forbidden romance.
1. Crimson

**Blood of the Enemy :  
**Crimson

Draco was wasted. Very wasted. He raised his bottle of Firewhiskey and drank again. He had just received news that his mother had died the night before. Of grief, they had said. Because of Lucius in Azkaban, doomed to a life of dementors and insanity. Loneliness, mourning and impending depression had finally seized her and led to her suicide.

Draco couldn't care less about his father. But ... his mother was different. She had regarded him with pride; with love. His father had just wanted him to become Voldemort's slave, like him, and rise to power. To become his right hand man, his trusted confidant.

Draco snorted. His father could Avada Kedavra himself and Draco wouldn't bat an eyelid. Fool of a man. He took another swig of mead, feeling it dull his senses.

He was in the Hog's Head. It was the middle of the semester. Dumbledore had allowed him out for the night – to 'calm himself down', he had said.

Well, he was bloody well calming himself down like this. Draco looked at the bottle in his hand, bleary-eyed. It was now empty. Scowling, he threw it to the floor, where it shattered, scattering emerald glass. The bartender glanced up sharply.

"Oi, you bloody kid! You clean that damn mess up!" he growled.

Draco smirked drunkenly at him. "What if I don't want to?" he said mockingly.

The bartender looked ready to explode. He started menacingly forward towards Draco's table, swearing furiously, armed with a broom.

The other customers had glanced up at the first sign of trouble, but by now had obviously lost interest and gone back to their drinks, unperturbed. The bartender beating someone up for soiling his already filthy premises was apparently not an uncommon incident.

Just when Draco was sure he was about to get knocked unconscious by the raving bartender, a darkly cloaked figure stepped smoothly in the man's path, shielding Draco placidly. From what Draco could make out in his drunken state, the intervener was pale skinned, with hair of the black night.

"No need to get so upset," the stranger said softly.

What happened next made Draco frown and sober up a little.

"...Yes, no need for me to get so upset," the bartender recited blankly, stopping in his tracks, eyes curiously glazed over. His arms dropped limply to his sides. The wielded broom fell to the floor.

"Nothing happened here," the stranger said, smiling.

"Nothing happened here," the bartender agreed, still wearing that strange, hypnotised look.

"You should go back to your business." Still smiling.

"I should go back to my business." The bartender turned away and walked back to the counter, looking perfectly normal. He busied himself, wiping off a glass.

Draco looked suspiciously from the stranger to the bartender, still frowning and now nearly fully sober. Then, the stranger turned around and sat down at Draco's table.

"Good day," he said cheerily, friendliness etched in every line of his face. "Mr. Malfoy," he added.

Draco regarded the stranger warily. He couldn't have been more than a few years older than himself. He was exceedingly good-looking, Draco had to admit.

"Who _are_ you, and how do you know my name?"

"Just call me Mikel," the stranger-now-known-as-Mikel said easily, still smiling happily. "Would you like to continue this conversation in my rented room upstairs? I have a rather sensitive nose, and all this dust and dirt is, I'm afraid, getting the worst of me."

Draco was forcibly reminded of numerous prostitution scenarios. And, somehow, he didn't think the rooms in the Hog's Head would be any cleaner than where they were now. Mikel was obviously lying through his impossibly white, game show host teeth. But he figured he was safe, seeing as he was ... male, and a trained wizard. Unless ...

"You're a very _queer _man, aren't you?" Draco said, imitating Mikel's preppy tone. He snickered to himself, wondering whether Mikel got his cryptic question about his orientation.

Mikel raised an eyebrow, smirking. "No, I shouldn't think so. Now, my nose is now getting quite disagreeable with me - " Here he paused to insert a mock sneeze. " - so if you wouldn't mind ... my room?" Mikel once again displayed those perfect, even teeth.

Draco obliged, deciding that he didn't really care even if this guy _was_ a psychotic serial killer slash rapist. He was feeling reckless and brushed away all hesitation and doubt.

When they reached Mikel's room, Mikel sat down in a large, ratty armchair, and motioned for Draco to take the seat opposite him. A single light bulb hung from the crumbling ceiling, providing mediocre light and flickering at intervals.

"What am I here for again?" Draco said, raising an eyebrow appraisingly.

Mikel no longer had an incessant grin plastered on his face. He now looked deadly serious, and – Draco noted – quite dark, looming in the shadows. A side of Draco was now fervently regretting having agreed to come up – yet the other side was still morbidly fascinated by this mysterious, unknown being.

"Mr. Malfoy, I am here to make you an offer," Mikel said quietly. Draco waited silently for him to continue.

"It is an opportunity given to very few, only to those who are deemed worthy. It promises great power, and can have a very great impact on the lives of those who accept."

Draco shifted in his seat, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Mikel got up and walked over to Draco, looking at him with striking blue eyes.

"Mr. Malfoy ... I was sent here. Sent here ... to make you a vampire."

Hearts jumped. Eyes widened. Throats closed. Draco stared.

He was completely, utterly shocked. "A ... vampire?" he croaked, barely audible, his brain screaming disbelief.

"Yes, a vampire." Mikel moved back to his own armchair. "But not an ordinary vampire, no." His icy, pale blue eyes bore into Draco's grey ones. "The kind of vampire that does not bear the weaknesses of normal ones – the kind that can walk in sunlight, resist the Holy Cross ... and yet has all the powers of an ordinary one."

"I – I didn't know anything like that existed," Draco managed, forcing the words out.

Mikel let a cool smile pass over his lips. "We don't exactly go around advertising it on shiny, flashy blimps and kids' cereal boxes. It is better to be unheard of and safe than to be feared and hunted."

"But – how was the first of ... your _kind_ made, if you're not like normal vampires?" Draco could hear his blood coursing through his body, thumping in his ears.

"By the birth of a child, with the mother of vampire blood and the father of a werewolf."

"...But – why? That ... doesn't make sense!"

Mikel had been examining a hole in the cushion of the armchair, but he glanced up when Draco spoke.

"Sorry, what did you say? You really shouldn't mumble like that, can't hear a thing you're saying."

Draco repeated his statement slowly, feeling a little annoyance spark.

Mikel shook his hand beside his ear in a 'no-go' gesture and leaned back lazily into the armchair. "Nope, sorry, no idea what you're talking about."

Draco scowled. Idiot.

"So, what do you say, Mr. Malfoy?" Mikel asked, raising a brow. "Do you want to join us? Do you want to come to the - shall I say ... dark side?"

Draco hesitated. The reality of the offer still had not caught up to him. Everything seemed surreal; dreamlike. Then a suspicious thought struck him.

"But ... why me? Of everyone out there ... why me?" Draco said confusedly.

Mikel smirked. "Well, you see, we Meta-Vampires – or whatever you want to call us – are very select about who we allow to join our ranks. There is just one condition you have to meet, though it is extremely difficult to do so."

"And ... what would that be?" Draco said hesitantly.

"You have to be – well – heartbreakingly beautiful."

This superficial revelation caused Draco's eyebrows to disappear into his fringe.

"...Heartbreakingly ... beautiful?" he said slowly, not entirely sure he had heard right.

"Yes," Mikel answered, shrugging. "I mean, you wouldn't exactly want horribly_ trollish_ people going around at night sucking people's necks." He shuddered, as if repulsed at the thought. "Of course, normal vampires aren't that picky, but then again they're _weaklings_ compared to us. So, actually, it's considered very flattering if you are given the opportunity to be one of us."

Draco was still doubtful. "But ... how did you get my name?"

"Oh, we picked up a phone book, jabbed at a random spot on the page with a stick and got a picture off the Internet to check if you were worthy."

Seeing Draco's utterly blank look, Mikel rolled his eyes. "That was a joke. Pureblood, eh? No, actually we noticed that article in the Daily Prophet about your mother having ... passed on. Didn't you see it? There was a picture of you there, and Rosetta and Jaiden both thought you were good enough, so they made me come and get you. Lazy slobs," he added under his breath. Looking up into Draco's eyes, he frowned. "Aren't you convinced yet? Most people would kill to be amongst us, and here you are, still having a friendly debate with your moral rights."

He had obviously sensed Draco's painfully apparent lack of conviction and battle of doubt. Mikel got up and moved over to Draco's side, so quickly that it almost seemed like he had apparated.

"Think of the power ... None of the weaknesses, but all of the perks ... Teleportation, immortality, regeneration, godly strength, mind control, telekinesis..."

Draco's head began to spin. He wanted this, God he desperately wanted it. Yet, the thought of taking – _sucking _the blood out of people made him cringe. But he wanted it. And he decided.

"Alright," Draco muttered breathily. "Yes ... yes."

Immediately, Mikel yanked him out of his chair and backed him up against the wall. Draco was surprised. Mikel had him helplessly pinned, displaying the extent of vampire powers. His breath came heavily, bending hungrily over Draco's neck. Draco felt teeth graze his smooth, pale skin, yet not marking it; as if the vampire was taunting him.

Draco could feel Mikel exhale, his breath chilling. Mikel had his arms pressed tightly against the wall, his touch so impossibly cold that it seized Draco's muscles, making them stiffen. He closed his eyes and waited.

It happened quickly. Draco felt a sharp, piercing pain as Mikel broke through his skin. His cold, damp lips met the surface of Draco's neck, drawing blood. Draco could feel it coursing through his body, leaving him light-headed, slightly weak – yet exhilarated. His heart pounded in his chest; he could hear it. Then, Mikel stopped and drew back, a telltale smear of blood decorating his pale lips. He licked it off with his tongue, icy eyes meeting Draco's. Draco found himself missing the sinful sensation of his blood being taken away from him.

Then, Mikel sank his protruding fangs into his own wrist. Draco was startled; he hadn't been expecting it. Two tiny beads of blood formed on the surface of Mikel's skin. He held his wrist up to Draco's mouth, still looking into his eyes.

He had not been told, but Draco knew what to do. He slid his mouth over the wound, slowly drawing the vampire's blood into his body. At first he recoiled from the coppery, metallic taste, but soon he found himself craving more, drinking ravenously.

Then, Mikel pulled away, although reluctantly. "That's all you need," he said quietly. "Now, you are a vampire."

Draco had almost forgotten the purpose of the blood exchange. But ... he could sense the difference. He could hear better, he could see perfectly clearly even in the dim light. He felt stronger, so immune; completely in control. Draco remembered his punctured skin, and instinctively raised a hand to his neck. But he found that the wound had since healed.

Mikel was watching him, a smirk forming on his face.

"Yes, nice, isn't it?" he drawled. "Now, sit down, I have a few things to tell you."

Draco slid into his seat reluctantly. He was itching to experience his newly gained powers.

"Okay, about blood-taking," Mikel said in a business-like tone. "Vampires just have to take a little more than your average Red Cross donation maybe once a day or less – you'll know when you can stop."

Draco had no idea what the Red Cross was, but he tilted his head up in acknowledgement anyway.

"Your powers – you'll figure them out as time passes. Now, here's the important part. Since we are not susceptible to normal vampire killing methods, the only way to kill us is by taking off our heads; and anything relative to extremely grievous harm. Also, vampires can only feel the harshest of temperatures, so you won't really be needing extra insulation other than your skin come winter. But we find it best to go along and put on a jacket or something anyway. Walking around in a blizzard with only a single shirt on is bound to arouse suspicion."

Draco tilted his head again – his equivalent of a nod.

"And before you can convert anyone into one of our kind, you have to seek the opinions of at least three other vampires. Drop me an owl and I'll arrange it. But bear in mind we have _very _high standards, so be selective."

Draco snorted inwardly. Heartbreakingly beautiful? He seriously doubted the odds of finding someone who met that requirement at Hogwarts – besides him, of course.

Mikel, as if he had read his mind, raised a raven brow amusedly.

"You can teleport back to your school. It's different from apparation, so the barriers won't affect your ability to emerge in the grounds."

With that, he turned and swept away, but paused and looked back in the doorway, smirking sarcastically.

"Oh, one more thing. _Have fun_."

* * *

Wee. I've been dying to write this for ages. :) Also, I couldn't resist slipping in a few obvious Star Wars and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory references. Heh, I'm such a goon. :P Currently, I'm concentrating on other stuff, but I will update this if I have time. Yes, this is a DM/HG fic. Hah, now their love is even _more _forbidden! XD Oh, and join the dark side! We have cookies!


	2. Gaze

Hello. It's been awhile. I have an announcement. Here, below is the notice I put on my other story, Silver Seas. Very important.

_**(Yesh, this has a point.)**_

_This is belovedsoul. I'm sorry, but I will no longer go on any more. I've just entered secondary school (I'm 13 this year) and the workload, pressure and just THINGS I need to deal with are taking up all my time. I can't find the will to write, or the interest. All I think about now is … boys. And how to pass that Chinese exam I have this week._

_I'm irritated with myself for dropping yet another story, and I'm sure everyone else is too. But it can't be helped. I don't even think about nowadays._

_But the point of this is to make a proposal. Today I got a PM from someone asking me if I planned on continuing Silver Seas. I messaged back, saying no. But I felt this sense of loss at this carefully crafted plot going to waste._

_So I'm making an offer. If any of you want to continue this story, or write a different version of it or anything at all, I give you all permission to copy and paste or take whatever you want from it and write it yourselves. You can even copy all the previous chapters and start writing from where I stopped. Just be sure to tell me about it so I can read it! I want to see a finished story as much as everyone else. If you're so kind, you might also credit me accordingly._

_I'm not sure if anyone would even want to do this, but hey, it's worth a shot, right? If you're even a little bit interested, then go ahead, I fully support you. But once again, tell me if you're going to! I promise to review, hees._

_Well, I've got to go call that cute guy from the second row and ask him about homework. Ahem. _

_**Oh, yeah. You can do the same with any of my other stories too, like BOTE. But again again, tell me about it! **_

Yeah. Anyway, below I've put Chapter 2 of BOTE that I never finished. Hey, might as well. That teleportation description was a killer to write.

I love all of you readers, however annoyed at me you may be. Well, if any of you love vampirism as much as me that you would dedicate hours writing descriptions of them necking beneath the light of the moon, go ahead. I really like this plot, actually. Vampires are oddly sexual, which I feel would have added to the passion between Draco and Hermione had I finished writing this.

Gah. I hate myself. I wish someone would write a romance scene like that. -nudge nudge-

**Blood of the Enemy: **Gaze

Draco stared after Mikel as the battered wooden door swung back into place on its rusty hinges, creaking heavily. Over on the far wall, a lone spider crept silently across its silken web.

He was alone. Draco's blood rushed from the anticipation. Teleportation ... but how? Draco took aslow, hesitant step forward, willing himself to teleport. Nothing. He took a step back. But still, he remained in the dusty old room, where the spider's web slowly grew further tangled and intricate. Feeling his excitement ebb and impatience set in, Draco stepped forward and backwards repetitively, looking all the more like he was making a pathetic attempt at the Irish Drinking Jig.

Frustrated, Draco stopped stepping and instead whirled around to face the door, cursing, mind focused on how he would now have to get to Hogwarts on foo-

- and suddenly, for a moment, his vision was stolen from him, the solid floor beneath him seemed to vanish; and he was standing on nothing - he felt a cool, slippery sensation, like he had walked through a door of Jell-O, and the next moment found himself being thrown forwards onto his knees, with only his hands and reflexes to break the fall to the cold stone floor.

Gathering himself up, Draco stood gingerly, scowling. "_Whirling around_? _That's _how you teleport? Bloody vampire could have told me ..."

He had been conveniently deposited into the Slytherin common room. Realising his complete lack of cover, Draco glanced around quickly to make sure nobody had seen him materialise out of thin air. Finding everything secure – it was two hours past curfew, everyone was asleep – he then examined his pale skin, expecting bruises. Sure enough, greenish-yellow bumps marred his calves and arms. But even as Draco looked on, the bruises began to fade, the damaged skin smoothening and restoring its colour to the former alabaster. Draco watched for a few moments, intrigued, then tore himself away and squared himself for teleportation again. He would not settle for such a clumsy, unorthodox entrance, and shuddered at the thought of the ensuing humiliation if any of the other vampires were to actually witness him performing the act.

Visualising a spot near the silver and green sofa in the middle of the room, Draco readied himself, and then whipped round sharply, willing his power to trigger.

Again came that sudden, smooth, gauzy sensation of slipping through air; like soft, cool fingertips trailing across his skin, the feel of nothing but air underneath his feet, and the momentary blindness. Before he could fully comprehend anything, his vision was restored, the floor sliding back into place, and he stumbled and fell onto the plush sofa in front of him.

Struggling to untangle and straighten himself, Draco pushed the hair out of his eyes and sighed in irritation.

"Damn Mikel guy. This is all his fault."

After Draco had finished refining his teleportation skills, exhausted, he trudged up the his dormitory and fell into a deep, undisturbed sleep. When he woke up a few hours later, Draco felt a difference in his body. He no longer had any of the morning stiffness and disorientation that plagued humans. Instead, his muscles felt relaxed and light, his vision sharp and mind clear; he felt fully awake.

Getting out of bed easily without the usual half hour delay of 'just five more minutes...', Draco stood and looked around. The dormitory was empty. Glancing out the window, Draco judged by the light and the position of the sun that it was sometime around nine-thirty.

Then Draco realised that he hadn't been able to tell time just by looking at the sky before. Ah. He sat down and on his bed and tried to recall what powers Mikel had said vampires possessed.

_... Tele ... telekinesis? _Draco felt a rush of excitement at the possibilities. He scanned the dormitory for something suitable to test his powers on, and his eyes fell upon someone's discarded robe lying on the floor. Turning his attention to it, Draco focused and immediately felt something in his mind _connect. _Inexplicably, his fingers twitched in triumph. The robe suddenly jerked an inch off the floor and fell back a second later. Draco paused. He raised his hand experimentally. The robe moved with his arm, hovering in the air. Draco smirked. He played with it awhile longer, making it zoom around the room and twisting it into knots, then finally laying it to rest around where he had first sighted it. Now he wanted something bigger, something that would test the limits of his powers. He chose to focus on Crabbe's bed a few feet away. It was harder this time. He screwed up his eyes and focused all his power into it; he could feel it humming in his veins ... The bed seemed to shift; the tail end lifted slightly off the ground. Draco concentrated even harder, shutting his eyes and gritting his teeth. If anyone were to have happened across, they would have thought that he was either suffering from violent constipation or else just a psycho freak who thought himself a very fertile hen. And then, at last, he sensed the click. Raising his arm slowly, Draco struggled to maintain the connection. The bed was heavy; he felt as though manacles had been attached to his wrist. Breathing heavily, Draco lowered the bed again and let it drop. It fell to the floor with a loud thump, and Draco heard a very faint 'What was that?' issue from the common room.

Draco rested for a few moments on his bed, recuperating. Vampirism wasn't easy. He felt strangely empty. Breakfast. He needed food.


End file.
